


King For A Day

by girlintheglen



Series: Illya's Days of April [14]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 22:42:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11389926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlintheglen/pseuds/girlintheglen





	King For A Day

It had been several months since the London assignment.  At the time it was all a matter of playing their parts as fashion designers in order to flush out a THRUSH operative whose background included a Cambridge education alongside a certain Russian.

 April Dancer had been both thrilled and intimidated by the choice role; she had been Mrs. Fashion to Illya Kuryakin’s Mr.  Each of them had already battled through a series of failed seductions, mostly generated by April as she made her way through a first year as UNCLE’s only female agent.  But that week in London she received the reward for her schoolgirl crush as she lay beneath the formidable skills of the man she had lusted over.  At the close of their lovemaking had come the morning, and the realization that it would be an impossible thing to try and maintain a relationship while conducting the business of the Command.  It was one or the other, and they each knew what their mutual decision would be.

 Ah, but that had been months ago, and right now the issue was more one of survival than seduction.  Paired once more on an affair that required their particular talents, the Russian and the Redhead had been successful in penetrating a THRUSH operation while posing as a deposed royal and his beautiful girlfriend.  The ruse had worked, the satrapy was now overrun by UNCLE agents and the two who had engineered the sting  were trapped in their hotel room while the local rebel forces attempted to overturn the government in the small country whose king Illya was not.

 “I didn’t see this coming.”  April was not exactly despondent, but she did have a date waiting for her in New York for the coming weekend.  This revolution was proving to be a tad more inconvenient than advertised.

 Illya agreed, he had thought they would make it out of the country before anything like an actual revolution took place.  The THRUSH threat, once removed, had cleared the way for freedom fighters to overrun the capitol city, making it impossible to get out.  Hopefully none of the rebel forces would get wind of a would be king in the Presidential Suite, it would be a final irony for the Soviet agent to be shot as a monarchist.

 “I am sorry, April, we should have left sooner.  I simply did not see this happening so quickly, our intelligence on the rebel movement was not entirely accurate.’  The Russian did feel responsible, and should anything happen to April as a result, well...

 “I suppose we might as well make the best of it, after all we have sumptuous accommodations here, a well stocked bar and most probably room service.  I don’t think the hotel is occupied, at least not yet.”

 The hotel was, in fact, not in the line of fire.  It was the airport that was shut down in an effort to keep the government officials from fleeing.  It was unlikely that Illya’s impersonation of the deposed king of Sparsnovia, the tiny nation that stood in the path of the THRUSH plot just recently foiled, would have drawn any attention other than what was intended.  Better to simply wait for their extraction team and, under the circumstances, enjoy the amenities provided.  


 April tended to agree.  There were certainly worse things than being confined to a room with Illya.

 “So your Highness, what would you like to do now?  I suppose I’m at your disposal, you being king and all.”  She winked at him, but the role playing she suggested appealed to the normally reticent blond; was she truly suggesting what it sounded like?

 Illya walked over to where April was seated, his approach as much a statement of intent as anything he might say to her.  In a flash the young woman felt heat rising all the way to her auburn roots, memories of that night in London suddenly pulsing within her.  She reached out her hand towards him, their fingertips touching, setting off something like sparks as they each acquiesced to what would come next.

 April wrapped her arms around Illya’s neck as he swept her up into his arms and carried her to the bed.  Looking into each other’s eyes they made a decision that propelled them into the night with a passion neither of them knew was still smoldering; unresolved and unrepentant, they were no longer agents of the Command, no longer afraid of what might come of this relationship.  It might only be for one night (or as long as this little coup might take), but however much time they had it would be spent lavishing each other with love.

 Morning’s arrival was accompanied by the sound of rain pelting against the windows.  Illya was reluctant to come out from beneath the covers, but he needed to see what was going on in the streets.  There had been no word from New York on the state of affairs or the activity of the rebels.  As he pulled back the curtains the sight below was of a city at ease, not civil war.  Somewhere during the night an accord had been reached and violence averted.

 “What is it darling? Are we prisoners of the revolution?”  April’s teasing tone was mixed with concern.  Illya’s naked form was silhouetted against a sudden burst of sunlight that made him look as though he was the source; blond hair and pale skin, she thought him incredibly beautiful in that state.  A warbling sound brought her out of the morning’s reverie, reminding them both that the charade had ended and their real lives were about to re-emerge.

 Illya retrieved his communicator from the desktop where he had left it, a slight hesitancy evident to April before answering its call.

 “Kuryakin here.”  April slid from beneath the covers and came to where Illya stood, picking up her robe and wrapping it around her bare shoulders.

 “Illya? Are you and April all right?”  Napoleon’s voice had an edge of concern to it, he was outside the city and still waiting for reports on the state of things there.

 “Yes, we’re both fine... um, as is the city.  All seems to be very peaceful at present.  What about you?’  Illya put his arm around April, pulling her close to him once again, feeling the same arousal as before.

 “What are we expected to do now?  Are there plans to get us out of here today?”  April ran a hand across his chest, making small circles in the patch of light hair.

 “No, no I don’t think so.  Mr. Waverly is confident that this new peace accord will stand, but he wants you and April to stay put for now.  I’m going to meet up with Grant and Lorenzo, finish the clean up on that satrapy.”  Napoleon’s role as CEA would require him to be at the helm of this operation, a task made easier by these latest developments.

 “Very well, I believe that Miss Dancer and I can ...” April let her hand run the length of Illya’s torso and belly, her fingers playing a game that made his breath catch.

 “What was that? I think I lost you for a minute.” Napoleon had his suspicions about April and his partner, but who was he to judge?

 “Yes, well... We shall wait to hear from you or Mr. Waverly.  Good luck to you Napoleon, and give our best to Grant and Lorenzo.”  April was kissing her way down the same path as her hand had traveled, making it nearly impossible for Illya to finish the conversation.  _Please, please..._

 “All right tovarisch, take care and enjoy a day off.  Give April a kiss for me. Solo out.”

 It took Illya all of a few seconds to lift April up from her kneeling position and back onto the bed.  A gift of time, for love and making love.  The day was only just beginning and Illya decided it wasn’t a bad thing, just this once, to be king for a day.  For her part, April was happy to fulfill his every command.

Long live the King.


End file.
